Roleplay
by xirtadar
Summary: [Slash] [SamFrodo] Sam and Frodo decide to spice up their sex life.


"Oh, Sam," Frodo sighed, loudly and pathetically. "I love you so, so much. More than the beautiful birds who chirp outside my window in the morning until Bilbo throws a rock at them and yells at them to shut it." 

Sam's eyes were filling with tears at Frodo's sumptuous prose. "Me dear," he cooed, aware that Frodo was often frightened by loud or sudden noises, "I love you more than eating, or perhaps the entire garden of Bag End, but definitely more than Rose Cotton, that's for damn sure." 

"Oh, Sam," Frodo practically melted into Sam's lap. "Let's do something new today." 

Sam nodded. Frodo was not even out of bed yet, and it didn't look as though he had any intension of getting out of bed. "What do you have in that pretty, little mind of yours?" Sam asked, sitting down on the bed. 

"Oh, I don't know." Frodo tugged off his pink satin nightshirt. "I was thinking we could role-play something." 

Sam smiled to himself. Frodo continued: "Let's pretend that I'm a dirty, stupid, poor, illiterate gardener, and you can be the dashing young heir to Bag End, who wears beautiful pink satin nightshirts and writes awe-inspiring Elvish poetry." Sam burst into tears. 

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo cried. "It's not that bad, is it?" 

"What's bad?" Sam asked, drying his eyes. "I thought we were role-playing." 

"Oh," Frodo said stupidly. "Well, I guess I'll just have to think of a better fantasy to act out. Let's see…" Frodo hummed loudly and annoying while he thought. Sam stared adoringly at Frodo. "Okay, let's see. Why don't we pretend that I'm a baker! Yes, I'm a beautiful dashing baker and I need to make 50,000 buns before dawn or the evil king Bilbo will come and lash me." 

Sam felt like he might vomit. "That's disgusting!" he announced. 

"Yes, well, it's only a fantasy. Never happens in real life, anyway." Frodo coughed. "Now, you'll be the handsome, strong candle maker. See, I can't bake by moonlight because, oh, I don't know … I'm half blind. I can't bake by moonlight so I need one of your famous, large, thick candles to light up for me." 

Sam, assuming that this was going where he wanted it go, hastily unbuttoned his pants and flipped Frodo onto his back, legs in the air. He spit into his palm and was about to give Frodo the fucking of a lifetime when Frodo shrieked. Sam stopped. 

"What was that?" Frodo asked, panting. 

"I thought we were gonna, you know, role-play," Sam said, confused. 

"Well, we are, and let me tell you, I can't bake 50,000 buns with the candle inside of me." 

"I thought that was the entire point," Sam said, sheepishly. 

"No, no, simply no," Frodo said. "I need that candle to see. How am I supposed to use its light when you're sticking it into my bum?" 

"Sorry." 

"Not a problem. Now, let's play." Frodo cleared his throat. "Here I am, just a lonely baker who needs to bake 50,000 buns by dawn or the evil king will lash me!" Sam shuddered. "Oh, I wish I weren't half blind! If only the handsome, strong candle maker would come and help me!" Frodo concluded and crossed his arms. "Now it's your turn," he instructed. 

"You know, me dear, I'm not very good at role play." 

"Why not?" Frodo demanded. 

"The gaffer didn't want us playing when we were bairns. Said playing was for rich folks." 

"That's so sad!" Frodo exclaimed. "More to the point, who will help me pound these buns?" 

"I will!" Sam exclaimed. He pushed Frodo back down and gasped, "where's the oil?" 

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo grew very excited. "You are going to help me bake!" 

"Yeah, sure," Sam mumbled, grabbing a vial of oil from the bedside table. "I've been looking for something to do with this candle I've got here, Mr. Frodo. What do you think I should do with it?" 

"I don't know," Frodo said. "You're the expert, candle-maker." 

Sam took this as the only sign he needed. He uncorked the vial and dumped oil all over the candle (as it were) and Frodo's bottom. "Are we ready to bake?" he asked. 

"Yes!" Frodo cried. "Bake with me, Sam!" Sam slammed himself into Frodo, who screamed and grabbed his own erection. Sam screwed Frodo with a wild abandon somewhat akin to baking. Granted, baking does not usually include the baker masturbating and screaming, "fuck me, Sam!" repeatedly, but reality wasn't something that Frodo really had a good grasp of. His cock, on the other hand… 

TKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTKTK 

Frodo made Sam pull out before he came. "I don't want to get pregnant," Frodo explained. 

"Um," said Sam. 

"Didn't I mention I was a lass baker?" Frodo asked. Sam shook his head. "Well, I am." Sam cheerfully withdrew from Frodo's decidedly feminine butt and ejaculated all over his decidedly masculine cock. "Yay," Frodo drolled, unenthusiastically. 

"Don't you want to come too?" Sam asked, quizzically. 

"I can take it or leave it," Frodo confessed. "I come on the inside, sometimes." Sam felt queasy again. Frodo shrugged. "You could make me breakfast, though. I think I'll have egg whites with a dollop of jam and a crumpet, please." 

"I think you should make me breakfast." Sam raised his eyebrows suggestively, sliding out of the sheets and onto his feet. "After all, you're the baker." 

"Oh, Sam." Frodo threw the covers off and hopped out of bed. "That was only pretend. In the real world, you are my employee." Frodo pronounced the end of the word oddly, so he was saying 'employ-ay' and not 'employ-ee,' which annoyed Sam somewhat. 

"Yes, Mr. Frodo." 

"And after first breakfast, you can clean my sheets. Oil stains, you know." 

"Yes, Mr. Frodo." Sam began to shuffle out of the room, wondering exactly where in the definition of gardener laundry came in. 

"Sam?" Frodo asked softly, one last time. 

"Yes, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked turning around. 

"I do love you," Frodo confessed, blushing. 

"Well, I love you too, dear, and that's a fact." 

Frodo smiled and approached Sam, who hugged him close. "Are you sure you wouldn't like something more than egg whites?" Sam asked. Frodo shook his head. "I'm not sure I like role-playing, Mr. Frodo. I think I prefer the normal way, if you take my meaning." 

"On the kitchen table, then?" Frodo asked. Sam nodded. "Before Bilbo gets up?"

"That's right." 

"Can I wear a frock?" 

"No," Sam said calmly. "I think I've had enough role-playing for now." Sam kissed Frodo and exited the room. Frodo looked around and shut the door. 

"Oh, piss," he said softly. He opened the doors to his wardrobe and pulled out a lacy, blue dress with a low-cut neckline. "Now what am I going to do with this?"


End file.
